Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (7 page)

Raedwyn
the Fair was so different from the cowed, work-worn women who had toiled in the
villages in northern Gaul where he had grown up. She was the daughter of a
king, proud and strong-willed. She was a golden-haired goddess, but her beauty
paled against her spirit. Raedwyn indeed should have been born a man for she
wielded her beauty like a weapon, and no man who met her was immune to it.

Caelin
leaned up against the trunk of an ash tree and rested his forehead against the
rough, cool bark. He had not led an easy life, and it had tested him more times
than he cared to remember. The injustice Raedwald had committed against
Ceolwulf had long become his own and he lived for the day when this quest for
revenge would be sated, when he and the others who followed Ceolwulf would be
free to live their lives as they saw fit.

This life
made him weary to his soul. Alone in the woods, with only the trees as witness,
Caelin made a silent promise: if he lived through the looming battle, Caelin
would bid his father and his life as a mercenary goodbye and travel this wild,
green land until he found a quiet corner – far from war, blood lust and
feuding.

Far from
the bewitching presence of Raedwyn the Fair.

Chapter Five

Dusk
settled slowly over the woods; a long amber-hued twilight, as day released its
grip and night’s shadow beckoned. The late summer days were long but the slight
chill that came as the sun slipped beyond the treetops warned the autumn was
not far off and that soon the days would shorten and the leaves would turn.

Ceolwulf’s
settlement was subdued as the light faded. The low rumble of men’s voices, the
crackling of meat cooking on spits, and the gentle noises of horses as they
munched their evening meal, all filled the wide glade. Now that Raedwald had
accepted Ceolwulf’s challenge, they had little to do but wait. The anticipation
was far worse than battle itself – every warrior knew that – for in waiting a
man’s imagination could torture him. In the heat of battle, blood lust took
over and obliterated all other thoughts. It was an oblivion Ceolwulf’s men
would welcome, but for now they were forced to bide their time and await the
next full moon.

Inside her
bower, Raedwyn had come to a decision.

Listening
to the sounds of men talking in the hall next door, she dressed in a plain
tunic and overdress she used for traveling. She belted it securely around her
waist and pulled on her thick woolen cloak, fastening it with a brooch. All her
other belongings she would leave behind. They would just slow her down and since
she carried neither food, nor weapons, it was better to be unencumbered.

After
Caelin had left her, Raedwyn had sat numbly on her furs, pondering her
predicament. She had wanted to cry, but the situation was too serious for
tears. She could not remain here – it was time to take action.

Raedwyn
finished dressing and stood silently in the center of her bower, listening to
the sounds within the hall.

They were
roasting another side of mutton above Ceolwulf’s fire pit. The smell was
mouthwatering, reminding Raedwyn that no one had brought her food that evening,
and she doubted anyone would. The fat from the mutton had dripped into the fire
pit and created a greasy smoke that hung over the entire building, including
Raedwyn’s annex.

The smoke
had given Raedwyn her idea.

Unlike
Rendlaesham, Ceolwulf had built his settlement hastily. As such, the buildings
were flimsier than those Raedwyn was familiar with. The walls of Ceolwulf’s
hall were made of thatched bundles of willow twigs, rather than more durable timber
planks.

Raedwyn
opened her leather bag and retrieved a small clay pot. She pulled out the
wooden plug, revealing a solid white substance beneath – pig’s lard. Her mother
swore by lard as a beauty aid. For years, Seaxwyn had smeared it on her face
before going to bed, much to Raedwald’s disgust. She had insisted Raedwyn took
some with her – but Raedwyn did not intend to use it on her face.

Raedwyn
scooped out a chunk of lard and smeared it on the wall, at a place where two
bundles of long twigs were bound together. She emptied her pot of the remaining
lard and wiped her hands on an undershirt that she had twisted into a makeshift
rope. Raedwyn held the end of the greasy rope into the flame of the torch
chained to the wall. Then, she waited until the end caught alight. The flames
licked hungrily at the grease and Raedwyn deftly tucked the shirt into the
crack between the bundles of twigs.

Then she
stood back and watched.

The lard
worked better than she had imagined. In a short time, smoke filled her small
bower and she had to cover her mouth with her cloak to prevent herself from
coughing. Soon Ceolwulf and his cohorts would notice the smoke, but for now,
the smoke from their roast mutton would camouflage it. The flames spread over
the area Raedwyn had spread with lard and soon ignited the dry twig bundles.

Raedwyn
waited until the flames had almost burned right through the wall. Then she
picked up one of the heavy furs she had slept on. Draping it against the
burning wall, she shoved her hand through it at the burning wood until she felt
the wall give. Raedwyn smothered the flames with the fur, her eyes streaming
from the smoke as she worked. She was relieved to see that her idea had worked
perfectly – for now there was a smoking gap in the wall and the evening air
filtered into her bower. It was not a large hole but with a bit of a squeeze
Raedwyn was sure she would be able to wedge herself through it.

Quickly
now, for Raedwyn knew if she hesitated someone would catch her, she poked her
head through the hole and glanced from side to side. Fortune was indeed with
her for she spied no one guarding this wall of Ceolwulf’s hall. Another, lower
dwelling sat a few feet away, obscuring Raedwyn from the rest of the
settlement. Taking her chance, Raedwyn pulled herself through the narrow gap.
It was a tight fit and Raedwyn was afraid the still smoldering wood would cause
her clothes to catch alight, but after a few moments of struggle, Raedwyn
toppled, face-first onto the dew-laden grass.

Night had
almost fallen; the sky was a dark indigo against the black silhouette of the
treetops. Raedwyn was glad of the darkness as she crouched in the deep shadow
between the buildings and pondered her next move.

She had
not thought any further ahead than breaking free of her bower, but now that she
was outside, Raedwyn’s heart raced. Freedom was so close she could taste it. If
they caught her now, Ceolwulf would murder her.

Creeping
to the back of Ceolwulf’s hall, Raedwyn peeked out, judging the distance to the
edge of the woods. There were a few huts with thatched roofs between her and
the dark line of trees. She could see the glow of fires and the shadows of men
moving about indoors. Nearby, she saw the outline of one or two of them
patrolling the area. Raedwyn’s heart was now thundering in her ears. She could
either run like a hare for the trees or sneak quietly, flitting in and out of
shadows until she reached safety.

She chose
the second option.

Raedwyn
moved from her hiding place and, with the hood of her cloak pulled up around
her head, crept in-between the huts towards the woods. She was but yards from
the trees, and passing the last hut, when she heard the sound of footfalls. A
man emerged from the doorway behind her. Raedwyn dove behind the hut and
cowered in the shadows as he wandered over to the trees. The man unfastened his
breeches and relieved himself in the undergrowth. Raedwyn flattened herself
against the damp ground, praying her dark cloak would camouflage her in the
darkness. The man took his time relieving himself and farted loudly before
making his way back to his hut. Raedwyn guessed from the unsteady way he was
walking that the man was drunk. He staggered past Raedwyn and ducked back into
his hut.

Raedwyn
lay there, frozen with fright for a moment or two before she slowly got up and
dove for the sheltering boughs of the woods. Inside the protective shadow of
the trees, Raedwyn grinned in the darkness.

I’ve
escaped – I’m free.

Wrapping
her cloak tightly around her, Raedwyn attempted to orientate herself. She had
no idea which way was north, east, south or west. She had no idea in what
direction Rendlaesham was, but she was free and she intended to remain so. She
decided that the best route was a straight one, as far from Ceolwulf and his
minions as possible. She cared not if she became lost in the forest, for then
nobody would find her.

Raedwyn
moved through the trees away from the sounds and smells of civilization, into a
dark, primeval world where the only sounds were those of night creatures,
rustling in the undergrowth or screeching overhead; and the only smells were
forest scents. In truth, Raedwyn was terrified of being in the woods alone at
night. She tried not to think of the wild boars or wolves that inhabited the
forest.

Darkness
cloaked the woods. The moon had not yet risen, and so Raedwyn fled blindly,
away from her captors.

***

The
half-moon was rising into the night sky when Raedwyn heard the far off shouts
of men behind her and knew they had discovered her absence. Drenched with
sweat, her heart now hammering from exertion rather than fear, Raedwyn halted
for a moment, listening to the sounds of her hunters. Every muscle in her body
tensed, like a deer sensing a predator nearby.

The hoary
light of the moon turned the forest into an ethereal landscape. Raedwyn had
reached a small stream. It burbled gently and twinkled in the moonlight.
Raedwyn stepped into the cool water and felt it soak through her boots. She
waded upstream in an attempt to mask her trail from her stalkers.

Raedwyn
knew not how long or far she fled. She thought of nothing but escape. Finally,
scratched, aching and almost collapsing from exhaustion, Raedwyn realized she
no longer heard those who hunted her. She knew it was still not safe to tarry
but she could go no farther. She had to rest, and she needed to find a safe
place to do so.

The stream
had widened to a lazy river and the bank rose up steeply on one side. A narrow
cleft cut into the bank, obscured by a fringe of thick undergrowth. Raedwyn
wriggled under the cloaking underbrush, ducking her head to avoid catching her
hair in the brambles. It was a snug fit and in normal circumstances Raedwyn
would have worried her hiding place was some unfriendly forest creature’s home,
but such was her exhaustion that the damp, mossy ground felt like the softest
fur bed and she did not care if she had to share it.

Trembling,
Raedwyn pulled her hood up over her face, curled up into a ball and pulled her
cloak tightly about her. Sleep swallowed her and she sank into an exhausted,
dreamless oblivion.

***

Hunger
pains awoke Raedwyn from a deep sleep. Her stomach gurgled loudly, reminding
her she had not eaten since the morning of the day before. Damp and aching,
Raedwyn wriggled out from the undergrowth and blinked like a sleepy owl. She rubbed
her gritty eyes and looked up, surprised to see the sun already high in a
cloudless, blue sky. She had slept for a lot longer than she had intended. She
only hoped her hunters had overtaken her by now.

Raedwyn
knelt over the river’s edge and splashed water over her face. The shock of the
cold water cleared the last vestiges of sleep and sharpened her senses. She
took a long drink from the river and felt her stomach pangs ease somewhat.
However, it was no substitute for food.

After a
brisk wash in the river, her skin now tingling from cold, Raedwyn broke her
fast with a few handfuls of juicy blackberries. Then she set off again,
following last night’s route upstream. For some reason, she felt safer
following the river. Since she was now completely lost within the woods, the
river represented the only landmark she could steer by.

The day
grew steadily warmer and sweat soon trickled down between Raedwyn’s breasts and
shoulder blades. The woods grew denser and this worried Raedwyn. If she had
been traveling in the right direction, surely the woods would have given way to
open country by now. Raedwyn had the niggling feeling she had made a mistake,
but she was so intent on escaping Ceolwulf that she decided it was better to
continue this way rather than turn back and risk capture. As she journeyed on,
Raedwyn kept her senses sharp for any sign that Ceolwulf’s men had picked up
her trail. However, apart from the chatter of birds, the forest was silent and
Raedwyn began to hope that she really had escaped. 

Hunger
gnawed at Raedwyn’s belly as she walked. Apart from the odd handful of
blackberries, she had not eaten in a day and a half. Lack of food sharpened her
senses and made the sights, sounds and smells of the woods even more vivid.
Raedwyn’s skirts were now mud stained and ripped from where she had pushed
through brambles and undergrowth. Burrs matted her travel cloak and mud caked
her boots. She longed to stop by the river and bathe in the cool water but
instead she pushed on. This forest had to end before too long, she told
herself.

At times,
the trees formed a canopy overhead but despite the warm shafts of sunlight that
filtered down onto the forest floor, Raedwyn could not see what direction the
sun was traveling in. She still journeyed blind, hoping she was heading towards
her father.

Finally,
the heat of the day waned and dusk approached. So weary that she felt on the
edge of tears, Raedwyn collapsed on the riverbank and pulled off her boots. She
removed her cloak and hitched her skirts high around her hips. Then, with a
sigh of relief, she sank into the cool water and waded into the river. The
water was a soothing balm to her aching feet and tired legs. The river eddied
gently around her legs; the water was brilliantly clear so she could see her
pale feet standing on the pebbly bottom. She splashed water between her legs
and over her face and neck, letting it run down her chest and back under her
scratchy clothing. She longed to undress completely and loll in the river like
an otter but she decided against such recklessness. Ceolwulf’s men were still
pursuing her.

Dusk cast
a golden hue over the woodland and Raedwyn thought to herself that she had
never been in a place so peaceful and lovely. She straightened up from washing
and listened to the evening chorus of birdcalls. She could live in a place such
as this.